Crossing the road : Sunday Photo Fiction

I’m at the edge of a pedestrian crossing; opposite is a light that’s flashing red, then green, then red again. Perhaps if I had stronger glasses I could make out what it means, but I’ve been observing it for a while now and can’t quite figure it out. I’m getting tired, unsteady on my feet, and a little cold. My walking stick is starting to wobble, while I’m here hesitating.

Crossing the road is banal though isn’t it? You just go to the edge, look both ways to make sure nothing is coming, and then cross to the other side.

If you change your mind, you can wait until you get to the other side, or, in an emergency, turn around at any time and come straight back.

If only I could make some sense out of that flashing light.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and a kind voice breaks the cacophony of my thoughts.